Step Closer to the Edge
by Dragon Shojo
Summary: After Seto's assassination, Mokuba takes on the task of of finding out who did, but what he doesn't know is that there is to be an attempt on his own life as well. Rated for violence, rating may change.
1. Who Knows

Step Closer to the Edge

1: Jump

Disclaimer – Yu-Gi-Oh! belongs to Kazuki Takashi.

Seto Kaiba sat at a table, poking at his filet mignon unappetizingly with a fork. Here he was, at some nameless employee's birthday party, on a rooftop restaurant, when he didn't want to be here. Being a CEO had its drawbacks.

In a building next to the party, a woman checked into a room. It was on the same level as that rooftop party, the window giving a clear view of it. She smiled, then dimmed the lights. She then cut a hole in the window, poking the long barrel of a rifle through it.

Meanwhile, Seto started moving his food around so it would look like he ate it. He'd done this trick many times when he was young, and felt a sort of nostalgia doing it now. He almost never had time to himself now. Sure, a few years ago, he had had a few quiet moments to himself during school, but now that he was a full time worker, those times seemed as long ago as his early childhood. Seto then thought of his little brother, Mokuba, now a willowy sixteen-year-old, every bit as smart as Seto had been, and perhaps knew how to enjoy himself a little bit more. He thought of how Mokuba would probably follow in his own footsteps one day, but that seemed unlikely, as how close he and his brother were in age.

The woman bit her lip, waiting for the right moment. She was starting to have second thoughts about this. This man had never done anything to her, and here she was about to destroy his life, and possibly the lives of everyone around him. But there was no choice. She pressed the trigger.

---------------------------------

Next Day

Mokuba flopped on his large bed, flinging his backpack off into a corner of his room. He hadn't seen his brother ever since he'd left to go to that party. That morning, Mokuba had simply assumed that Seto had gotten home while he was still asleep and left early for work, but he hadn't gotten a call from him all day. This wasn't like him.

Mokuba walked over to his backpack and pulled out a binder. Same homework as usual: history essay due next week, a pre-calculus worksheet, and read two chapters of a book so classic, he doubted anybody read it anymore. He'd sat down at his desk and started to outline his essay when a sound from his laptop caught his attention. He turned around in his swivel chair to the monitor, and pressed a key. A new e-mail.

"Mokuba Kaiba: please come to Kaiba Corp office immediately. URGENT."

He sighed, running a finger through his black hair, muttering, "They always choose the most inconvenient times." He smoothed out his shirt and put on a jacket, trying to make himself look more presentable.

-------

Stepping into the office, the lanky teenager walked stiffly to where his brother's desk was. Looking around the room, he saw Roland, some other bodyguards, a couple of people who looked like attorneys, but no Seto. The first thing that came out of his mouth was, "Where's my brother?"

Roland coughed. "Well," he began, "That's what we wanted to see you about. Have a seat," he motioned with a hand.

Mokuba nodded and sat down. "Well?" he prompted after a long silence.

"We thought to bring to the news to you in the gentlest possible way," said one of the attorneys.

"So, we thought that the best way was to receive it personally," said the other, pulling at his cuffs in a nervous manner.

Mokuba hated it when people played this game, trying to avoid saying something nasty. He wished that they would just get to the point and stop wasting time. "What was so important that you couldn't just call me or text me or something?" he demanded.

Another person in the room, a police officer, finally decided to say, "Seto Kaiba was found dead at 3 am this morning."

It seemed like the entire world was crashing around Mokuba's ears. That couldn't be true! "What!" he exclaimed, suddenly standing up in his chair. "Where? How?"

"Please calm down, sir," said Roland, gently pushing his charge back down.

"What were the details?" Mokuba asked urgently.

"He was found dead," said the officer, a tone in his voice that distinctly said that he would've wanted anything else but to report this, "on the rooftop café at the Genjutsu Hotel at 3 am by the security guards. Apparently, he was shot in the back."

"How could this happen? How long before the body was found?" Mokuba asked, trying to keep a degree of rationale and sanity in his voice.

"We don't know," the officer said, his voice now slightly quicker as if he wanted to get this over with, "but apparently, the guests were too drunk to notice and didn't realize until everybody left."

Mokuba sat in his chair, speechless and unable to move. Even though he'd had a few several good moments to comprehend this sudden information, it still felt like a sudden slap to his face.

"Sir?" asked Roland. "Are you okay?"

But he got no answer as Mokuba slumped off the chair into unconsciousness.


	2. One Way Trip

Step Closer to the Edge

2: One Way Trip

Disclaimer – Yu-Gi-Oh! does not belong to me. Rong is copyrighted to me.

It was 2 am by the time Rong got home. She slid off her boots, putting them by the door, and flung her rifle case onto the sofa. Another target taken care of. The money would be deposited into her checking account later.

She grabbed a bottle of juice from the fridge, not caring what flavor it was. She took a few sips, and contemplated her actions. She'd killed someone. She was a murderer. But it wasn't so bad. She'd done away with many others. Rong looked inside the bottle, as if something in the apple juice would suddenly reveal itself to her.

No, she shouldn't feel guilty. She didn't know these people. They were of no relation or acquaintance to her. She was merely acting on orders. She only did it for the money, and nothing else. That decided, Rong put the half-empty bottle in the sink and made her way upstairs to the bathroom.

--

Mokuba felt like he was drowning in something. It wasn't water, more like clouds, but they felt oppressive, smothering him into nothingness.

A few moments later, he distinctly recognized the feeling and forms of pillows, which surrounded him, and noticed that a heavy blanket was over his head. Mokuba tangled with the blanket for a while, then sat up and regained enough sense to realize that someone had carried him to his room and tucked him in bed.

Mokuba suddenly put a hand to his head, now only noticing a dull, but throbbing headache. What had just happened? All the moments that came before seemed like a fast-forwarded film full of scenes that didn't come in order. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, stretching out his arms and back.

He glanced at the clock. It was 5:15 pm: he'd been asleep for only little more than an hour. A glance at his desk reminded him of the homework he had yet to do. His eyes fell on his laptop, which was turned off, but suddenly he seemed to remember the events that passed in the last hour.

Then it hit him. Seto was dead. His big brother was dead. The one who'd been there for him all his life was dead. Mokuba stood staring at the wall for a few moments to take in this fact. Then he shook his head. "I'm being silly," he said, then almost turned around to find out who had spoken when he realized that it was only himself.

Okay. So onii-chan was dead. Now what did that mean? Well, for one thing, Mokuba was now on his own. For another, Mokuba was now president of Kaiba Corp. And what did he have to do about his brother's death. What else but move on? It was no use standing here, grieving. Mokuba decided that that was the most logical path to take, although he didn't feel like it.

Mokuba sat down hard in his chair, and began doing his homework, unsuccessfully trying to shut out any thoughts except for history and pre-calculus.


	3. Stop That Time

Step Closer to the Edge

3: Stop That Time

Disclaimer: Yugioh doesn't belong to me, but Shinjuku does.

The next day, Seto's funeral was held. The sky was clear, with a few fluffy white clouds scattered over it. The sun shone brightly onto the grass and tombstones, giving a strange, uplifting mood that contrasted sharply with the oppressive environment of a graveyard.

Mokuba looked around. The crowd gathered were mostly people Mokuba had never seen before, although, some had claimed to be a distant relative or long-lost friend, or something like that. The only person he did recognize was Chiharu Nonaka, business partner and former classmate of Seto. She gave an acknowledging nod his way as she caught his gaze.

Mokuba tugged at his tie to loosen it a bit. It was really hot today, and his suit wasn't exactly helping it. His shirt was starting to stick to him, and he hated it when that happened.

He sat quietly through the entire funeral, trying to distract himself with his surroundings. However, the words of the priest got to him no matter if he was actually focusing on the ceremony, or on a wilted bouquet of flowers. The man talked about how Seto was so smart, survived through such hardships, was such a successful person and… a truly caring brother. Mokuba's throat felt dry and as if it were tied into a knot. Tears welled up past the barrier of his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He didn't bother to stop crying; it actually made him feel better, like a load was being lifted off his soul.

A lot of things in his life would change now. Mokuba hadn't exactly thought of them before, but now they came to him as the priest talked on. Memories flooded back: how he and Seto had been orphans, and how his brother had refused to part with him, how their stepfather treated Seto so brutally, but somehow, he managed to endure and rose to being CEO of Kaiba Corp. Mokuba managed a small smile for about a split second. He had always admired his brother for that. And now those were shoes he had to fill. Gone were the days they played and frivoled around. Gone were those days that Mokuba often went bursting into his brother's office or meeting room. Gone were the days that he looked up to him for support. He was now on his own, making his own decisions, and running his own life.

Mokuba's thoughts now faded to regret. He'd never gotten the chance to apologize, for his persistent questioning, the times he'd sneak out, or for the times he'd argued. He started wondering what Seto felt. Did these lay a burden on his soul? Would his ghost stick around until the scales were balanced? Or did he choose to move on into the next world? Or was there nothing at all where his brother used to be?

---------

Meanwhile, back at Domino High, Shinjuku Nayoyi kept glancing nervously at Mokuba's empty seat. The teacher had said that he was attending a funeral, but whose? Wouldn't Mokuba tell him? Shinjuku felt slightly betrayed. He and Mokuba were the best of friends, ever since they were eleven, and they both knew that they could trust each other with practically anything.

Shinjuku looked at the chalkboard and scribbled down some notes. He was getting distracted. But still, with that sentiment in his mind, he couldn't help drifting back to his worry about Mokuba. He had to call him after school.


	4. Nobody's Listening

Step Closer to the Edge

4: Nobody's Listening

Disclaimer: I don't own Yugioh. I do own Shinjuku, Miyuki, Rong, and Duyen.

Mokuba sat down in the chair at the front desk in the CEO office of Kaiba Corp. So. This place was his now. He felt strange sitting here, as if he didn't quite actually belong. Behind him, someone stifled a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Mokuba asked, turning around.

"Sorry, sir," said the bodyguard behind him, "but you just look so different sitting in the chair instead of sneaking around it."

Mokuba gave a slight smile. He liked doing that, hiding behind Seto's chair, then jumping on his brother when he least expected it. The look on the CEO's face had been priceless. He'd given up a while ago, since Seto started to sense every time he was about to be glomped.

'But something just doesn't feel right,' Mokuba thought, his smile fading. 'Maybe I'm just not ready for this job.' He got up.

"Sir? Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry," Mokuba replied, "but I need some time alone."

As the chauffeur was driving him home, he thought about the exact details of Seto's death. If his brother had died from illness, or a disaster, there was nobody to blame. Those things just happened, right? But Seto had been shot. Somebody was responsible for this.

Mokuba went up to his room, locked himself in, and sat down on his bed. He looked out the window, and around the walls, fidgeting nervously. Someone had killed Seto, but why? What kind of grudge would someone hold against Seto Kaiba, Corporate Executive Officer of Kaiba Corporation? Unfortunately, Mokuba could think of lots. And who would have such a motive? Many people fell into this category. This was starting to disturb him a little.

His thoughts were interrupted when his phone rang. Caller ID told him that it was Shinjuku. He picked up the receiver. "Hello."

"Hi, Mokuba."

"Hey, Shinjuku." Mokuba knew this was his best friend in the world, but he couldn't help speaking with such an indifferent tone.

"Dude, where were you?"

"Funeral," Mokuba replied, the thought of it bringing tears to his eyes again.

"I know that." Mokuba could sense an eye roll from his compadre. "But whose?"

The answer came slow. Could he answer that? He could trust Shinjuku with anything, but he wasn't sure about this. This was really deep and personal.

"Mokuba?" Shinjuku's voice cut through his trance. "Listen, you know you can trust me. I'm not gonna tell anyone if it bothers you that much."

Mokuba sighed. "I'm sorry, Shinjuku, but I.." his voice choked, "I just can't."

"Come on. I'm home alone, plus you've got your own private line. It's not like anybody's gonna eavesdrop."

Shinjuku had a point, but… "Sorry," he said in reply.

"Mokuba," said his friend exasperatedly, "I've trusted you with my life. Why won't you trust me?"

Great. Guilt crept up Mokuba's throat to join the grief already there. His mind battled against itself. He didn't really want anybody to know about this, but it would be easier to handle it when others shared your sorrow. Shinjuku was his best friend, but could he really be trusted with something so important? "Alright," he said finally, "it was someone… really close to me."

Shinjuku felt a bit disappointed. That was all he had to go on? There weren't too many people that Mokuba considered very close, except his friends and family. "It's not Miyuki, is it?" Miyuki was Mokuba's foster sister, and although distant by family ties, very close him as a friend. She was currently on active duty in the Air Force and stationed somewhere in Central Asia.

"No," he said.

Shinjuku was already tired of this guessing game. "Well, it's gotta be Seto," he said.

Mokuba just nodded.

"Mokuba? You there?"

"Yeah."

"Dude, that's terrible. What are you gonna do on your own?"

"I've got to run the company now for one thing. It's not gonna be easy. I mean, I know I take classes and stuff, and I know everything I have to do, but I never knew it'd be this hard! I just always watched Seto do everything." Tears were welling up in his eyes again. He grabbed a tissue from a box on his bedside table and wiped them off.

"Well, you know I'm there for you. No matter what."

"Thanks. You're awesome, Shinju."

"I know I am! Worship me!" he said, joking.

Mokuba laughed, in spite of himself. "All hail," he said. "Talk to you later, okay?"

"Sure. Bye." With a click, Shinjuku hung up.

Mokuba pressed the off button on his phone. Talking made him feel a lot better, that was for sure. And he wasn't alone.

-----------------------

Rong opened her e-mail. There was a message from her boss.

"Excellent job. Stand by for further instructions."

She smiled at her success. This job was easy. No messy paperwork, no bills, no reports and charts to carry out. But it also had its risks. There was nothing like the thrill and danger of dodging the police.

Duyen looked at the monitor over her sister's shoulder. "Another job well done," she said, "not surprisingly."

"It's not very hard," Rong replied, "so long as you have the right discipline."

"Sure," her sister replied. Duyen was a bit shorter than Rong, but both were slim, with straight, dark hair. Duyen liked to color her hair, however, and as of now, it had blue streaks in it.

The sisters were also slightly different in mentality. Rong was cool and collected, while Duyen was outspoken, and wasn't afraid to argue out her point.

"I know that tone," said Rong. "What do you want?"

"You know," she said.

"Out of the question."

"Rong, please! Why don't I get to do a job by myself?" Duyen worked alongside her sister, but usually stayed at home to manage the computer and hack into surveillance systems to keep track of Rong and make sure she got out alive.

"You haven't the right mind for the job," she snapped. "You think it's so easy just to pull a trigger and off someone? I'd like to see you try me right now."

Duyen paused in shock. That was unthinkable, let alone doable.

"I told you," said Rong, idly clicking around on her monitor.

The other girl turned around and stormed up the stairs.


End file.
